


bats, blood, and boyfriends

by trophy_fish



Series: once, twice, three times a sniffle [2]
Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Abusive Father, Blood, Hurt Mickey, Ian Gallagher - Freeform, M/M, Mickey Milkovich - Freeform, Physical Abuse, Violence, injured mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4879054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trophy_fish/pseuds/trophy_fish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian gets a peak into just how bad home life at the Milkovich house can be after a rather harsh incident between Terry and Mickey. This time Ian gets to help</p>
            </blockquote>





	bats, blood, and boyfriends

**Author's Note:**

> so theres no actual sickness. but it still counts. so shhh

Once again Ian was making his way to the Milkovich house through the dark of night. But this time hes step wasn’t hurried with concern, but anger and immense irritation. Just as he reached the house, Terry Milkovich was making his exit, bat in hand and an unwavering stare out in front of him. It was clear he was on his way to settle the score,with some unlucky fellow. Ian had been walking determinedly himself, but his stride fell weak when compared to Terry’s march.

Ian stopped abruptly when they passed each other, turning and shooting Terry a glare when he clipped his shoulder roughly. Terry still didn’t acknowledge him, so Ian brushed it off and continued to the house and up the stairs, reminding himself why he was here. It never really bothered him any when Mickey was late about meeting up with him. But he’d be damned if Mickey completely stood him up, and got away with it.

Sucking in a deep breath he pounded a fist against the door and waited not so patiently for one of them to open the door. As always he could here some kind of movement inside, but no one came to greet him. He knocked again, this time harder, louder, and this time he got a response but still not what he had been expecting.

Mandy’s voice, distracted and shaky rang out. “Um…who is it?” she called between quiet, in audible whispers. Ian frowned in confusion but answered.

“Its Ian” he answered firmly. “I need to talk to Mickey” he refused to let his confusion distract from his anger. He had a bone to pick with Mickey, and nothing was going to change that. Mandy’s response was delayed, whatever was going on in there was clearly taking her full attention. Ian’s curiosity was growing rapidly.

“Ian its…its really not a good time” she called back, then more whispering. Pressing an ear against the door he could just barely make out some of what was being said. “I know” it was still mandy, whoever she was talking to was speaking so quietly Ian didn’t know how Mandy herself was understanding it. Never the less, he listened closely for her side of the conversation. “I know I know” she cooed. “I won’t” she spoke gently, soothingly which surprised Ian even more. Milkoviches don’t talk like that, and certainly not to each other.

“I need to talk to him” Ian insisted, pushing his curiosity aside, and staying on task. “Hes an asshole!” he added, reminding himself what brought him here in the first place. 

More whispering.

“You can’t…hes not ho—” Ian could smell the lie from a mile away and protested before she even had chance to finish.

“I know hes in there” in reality it was nothing more than an assumption, but it was worth a shot and by the returning silence he knew he was right.

“hes um…hes very sick” Mandy answered, but she spoke pleadingly.

“Sick?” Ian muttered under his breath and rolled his eyes, another lie he was sure of it. “Alright, what the hell is going on in here?” Ian questioned exasperatedly as he let himself inside.

“Ian!” Mandy’s head shot up from behind the couch where she was kneeling on the floor. Ian’s eyes widened as concern and confusion, his anger quickly subsided, for now. “Go away” she ordered but there wasn’t a chance in hell he was leaving now. He was already making his way to her, unsure what he would find her tending to behind the couch.

“Oh!” one of his hands covered his mouth in shock. “Hes not sick!” he exclaimed. “What happened?” he asked, wasting not time before kneeling beside her to help.

It was hard to tell If Mickey was conscious or not, but he had to be the one she was whispering to earlier, which was amazing seeing that he seemed pretty close to dead at the moment. He laid there collapsed on the ground, pale and eyes rolling. Mandy was busy using a towel to mop up a small puddle of blood that had accumulated beneath his head, as Ian helped him sit up, supporting him fully until he could lean against the back of the couch. Once he was propped up, a deep gash was revealed on the right corner of his forehead. There was dark, purple bruise surrounding where the skin had split open.

Ian never received an answer when he asked what had occurred, instead he watched as the two made eye contact and Mandy knew not to answer.

“We need to get him to the hospital” Ian insisted, but the two of them protested immediately and completely in synch. “No.” they refused sharply.

“Just help me get him to his bed” Mandy said, tossing the towel aside.

“Both a you shut up” Mickey breathed, sounding exhausted. “I’m fuckin’ fine” he insisted groggily. He didn’t mind the care-taking when it was just Mandy, but this was the last way he wanted Ian to see him. Weak, bloodied, tears threatening to form. Mandy sighed, knowing exactly what this was, pride.

“Just help me get him to his bed” Mandy said again, turning to Ian more directly and lowering her voice as if Mickey wouldn’t be able to hear it. “…fuck you guys” Mickey muttered and rolled his eyes as the conversation proceeded without him.

“What happened?” Ian asked again stubbornly, turning to Mandy. “He could have a concussion” Ian warned.

“I don’t have a fucking concussion” Mickey mumbled but neither of them were really listening to him.

“Its fine” Mandy said, putting a blood stained hand on Ian’s shoulder. “Hes um…hes been sick before I can handle it” She assured him. Ian sighed in defeated and nodded. If theres one thing Mickey and Mandy had in common it was their impressive stubbornness and Ian knew he didn’t stand a chance especially if they were agreeing for once.

So he stood and helped Mickey stand as well, opened the door to his room and led mickey inside, “Its a shithole in here, Mickey” she scolded him, wrinkling her nose. Mickey didn’t find the energy to answer but they all knew what was on his mind. “I’ll be right back” Mandy added and left to get some water and another towel to finish cleaning his wound. She stepped out and shut the door behind her, just as Ian helped Mickey lay down. He winced sharply until his head was comfortably held buy his pillow.

Ian smiled warmly down at him and brushed away a bead of blood the had run down the side of his cheek. Or at least he tried to before Mickey swatted his hand away.

“You can’t just show up here, whenever the fuck you want” Mickey told him. Ian’s smile faded and Mandy re-entered the room.

“Move” she sighed and waited for Ian to get out of the way. Carefully she dabbed the towel into the glass of water and began cleaning the blood off of him. Ian watched from aside, a small smile coming to his face. It was the first time the two of them actually looked liked siblings, like family, and whether or not they would tell him what happened Ian had pretty good idea.

“Stop it” Mandy said,her voice carrying a subtle chuckle. “Stop bitching” she laughed and set the glass of water down on his dresser. Ian didn’t hear exactly what Mickey said but he had no doubt he was protesting. “I’ll kick your ass” she sighed lightly, then handed the towel to Ian. “I have to go pick up some beer before…” she glanced over at Mickey just when he shot her a glance, as if she could sense it.

“I’ll be back later” She finished and passed Ian as she headed for the door. Ian smiled and made his way back to Mickey’s bed side.

“I was starting to doubt you two we’re actually related” Ian teased. Mickey rolled his eyes, he was obviously out of it but Ian was starting to think he liked him better this way.

“She’s not as sweet as she looks” Mickey mumbled.”I’ll owe her for this later” he explained groggily. Ian chuckled as Mickey began to blink his eyes heavily, staying closed a little longer each time.

“Hey hey hey” Ian put a hand on his shoulder and shaked him gently, once he realized he was falling asleep. “You can’t go to sleep, whether you go to hospital or not you could still have a concussion.” Ian insisted worriedly.

“Blow me” Mickey muttered and rolled to his side, putting his back to Ian. Ian rolled his eyes, but kept his patience.

“Come on” he sighed and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Did you, fall unconscious when…when whatever it is that happened, happened?” he asked, remembering what he learned in health class just a few weeks ago. 

“No” Mickey answered. “….Maybe..I don’t remember” Mickey answered, though it was lie. He remembered everything. ‘You drank the last of the booze ya little shit!?’ , the swing of a bat, waking up on the floor, Mandy watching it all from her bedroom doorway.

“Okay” Ian sighed. “Thats a yes” Ian said and gave Mick a pat on the shoulder. With that, Mickey rolled back over to his back. “Do you know what day it is?” Ian asked, continuing his questionnaire.

“Fuck you” Mickey huffed. “Thats what day it is” He said bitingly, but found himself having to force down a grin. The way Ian was smiling down at him made it hard to be angry.

“Alright, I think your fine” Ian said, though he was really just hoping. “C’mere” he sighed and used the towel to finish the job Mandy had started. He started dabbing at the blood, but by now it had dried and he couldn’t exactly be as gentle as he wanted to. Mickey groaned quickly every time Ian wiped too close to the wound itself and every groan was followed up with a quiet apology from Ian.

By time Ian finally finished and the trails of blood the had been covering his forehead and the side of his face were gone, Mickey had let himself fall asleep under Ian’s care. Ian tossed the towel aside and ran through Mickey’s hair, at first he was just toying with it, but soon found himself coming it neatly to the side, a part of him curious as to what he look like if actually put any time into it. Of course he had to ignore the gaping wound on his forehead, the usual scattered bruises and the torn sleeveless flannel he was sporting. It was easy enough, when he pulled the blanket up over him.

He heard the front door open and close. Mandy was home. Hopefully. Either way Ian left a quick peck on Mickey’s forehead before heading out and closing the door behind him. 

“Hey” Mandy called from the kitchen as she restocked the fridge with beer. “Hes gonna be fine ya know” she assured him, she had meant to say it early when she first realized how worried Ian was. “Shit like this…” She shrugged and handed him a can of beer. “It happens” it wasn’t very comforting but it was true.

“Yeah” Ian nodded, giving her a thankful smile as he took the beer in hand. “Just make sure he drinks a lot of water” Ian told her. “Maybe get him to lay off the booze for a couple days, its dehydrating” He explained. It was a long shot and he knew it, but he didn’t mind wasting his breath, not when it came to this.

Mandy nodded, giving him a perplexed smile, she wasn’t quite so sure why he gave a damn. For all she knew Mickey gave him hell like he did everything else. But she also knew Ian was kind and if anyone could be genuinely worried about the well being of Mickey Milkovich it was him.

Ian cracked open the can, knowing exactly what Mandy was wondering about. But Mandy, if anyone, should know there was a lot more to Mickey than what he let the world see. “Keep me posted” he nodded, took a sip of the cheap alcohol and headed for the door.


End file.
